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But I don’t have to say anything. Lucas’s back is to me, and there’s the inverse triangle of his back and his narrow hips and his muscular butt and his long legs. He’s washing his armpits, and it’s only in the slow, stiff way he cleans himself that I realise he’s feeling the same way I am.
I don’t know how long I’ve been lost in my thoughts, gawking at him, but suddenly Lucas straightens up and looks over at me.
I whip back around. I’m turning red, I know it. Shit. He’s going to think I was perving on him, but I wasn’t. I mean, yes, I did look at his body, but I wasn’t fixating on that. I was thinking about how everything between us has changed, and how it’s still almost impossible for me to believe that everything that happened all those weeks ago was real.
I rinse the soap off my body and haphazardly throw the towel around myself. Gathering up my clothes in a messy bundle, I make for the doors — I’ll dry and change in the other room. I need to get out of this steam-filled room as fast as possible.
“Are you going?”
Lucas. I glance over, which is a mistake, because all of him is on display. His wet hair stuck to his forehead, his chest, his torso…even his soft dick makes my stomach squirm. Cleo once told me that soft dicks are weird and ugly, and yes, I suppose they can sometimes look funny, but the image of Lucas in front of me reminds me of those naked Roman statues.
“Yeah,” I say after too long of a pause.
I wait for Lucas to smirk and tease me, but instead, he just bites his lip. Not in a seductive way. More like he’s hesitating too. And it’s cute, but it makes me feel even more awkward and self-conscious.
“Do you want to head back together?” Lucas asks. “We could grab dinner. I know a Singaporean place on the way.”
Droplets of water fall from his hair, down his cheek, and onto his collarbone. If I were closer, I’d see the droplets shatter into a million specks of water.
“Sure,” I say, blinking rapidly to get my brain working again. “Yeah, that’s… Good idea.”
His lips curl into the softest smile, and that’s when I catch it. The flick of his eyes from my face to my body, so quick, it’s almost imperceptible. The effect of it, of just his gaze on me, is enough to make my stomach flip.
I get out of that room before I burn up.
*
By the time I’ve changed into clothes, I’ve regained my sanity. Dinner with Lucas? What was I thinking? Sure, it sounds innocuous enough, but now that my mind is clear, I know it’s a bad idea.
I sit on the wooden bench in the centre of the change rooms, preparing what I’m going to say for when Lucas comes out, but he doesn’t.
I open the shower room door, and Lucas is standing in the same position under the spray of water, but now he’s hanging his head, resting his forehead against the back of his hand, which is pressed against the tiles.
“Lucas?”
No response. Perhaps he can’t hear me over his shower, which has gotten louder.
I walk over, careful to keep my bare feet on the places that are dry.
“Lucas,” I try again, raising my voice.
He startles and raises his head to look at me.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He stays quiet, eyes on mine.
I notice that there’s no steam emanating from him and reach out to feel the water. Immediately, I snatch my hand back. “That’s freezing. Why are you…?”
He keeps looking at me, and the question dies in my throat.
Oh.
I swallow, feeling myself go pink again.
“Listen,” I say. “I don’t think we should get dinner.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “That wasn’t me trying to trick you into a date.”
